


Twin Wrecks

by blanketed_in_stars



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9822401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanketed_in_stars/pseuds/blanketed_in_stars
Summary: Five times James Flint smiled, and one time he didn't need to.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Palebluedot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palebluedot/gifts).



“You know,” Flint says, later, “most men would never follow me again, having heard what I’ve told you.”

John considers. “Well,” he says, “I’m not most men.” His heart beats in his throat—words are his trade, but these feel too true. Baring his throat to the barrel of a gun. A gamble, he thinks. What has he bet? What has he bet on?

And Flint watches him, the glow of the fire mixing with the green of his eyes, his skin gilded in the dark. A smile’s ghost haunts the corner of his mouth. “No,” he says, “you aren’t.”

 

———

 

They orbit each other like lodestones, but John is still surprised to see it—red eyes, short breath, a tremble in his fingers that he cannot hide—or doesn’t try to.

“Sorry,” John says, instinctive, stumbling back—

Flint smiles, watery. “You’ve seen worse, haven’t you?” He spreads his arms—here I am, a king. Here I am, a wreck.

John stands, John stays. Here they both are.

The smile turns dark, the gaze knowing. “This is what you’re becoming.”

It’s a futile warning. John knows what it is to break—learned it years ago. Here they are then. Both shattered beyond repair.

 

———

 

“Silver.” A low growl. “You’re a shit.”

John turns. “You know, that’s not my name.” It’s funny: confusion looks good on Flint. “Silver—the alchemists tried to make it. You know, alchemy is—”

“I know how to read.”

“Well, that’s what I am, man-made.” He smirks. “John’s true, though. Call me that, if you like.”

“John.” Slowly, tasting it.

And the counter-strike: “James.”

Flint—James—smiles, and it spreads like an avalanche, pulling his eyes into crescents and transforming his face. The sun emerges from behind the clouds. John is suddenly, beautifully blinded. “You’re still a shit.”

 

———

 

Once, in the darkened cabin: James’s laughter fills the space, heady as the wine they’re drinking.

John laughs, too, alive with it. They will both be dead tomorrow. Winning, he thinks, was never really a possibility.

And then they grow quiet—the blade of truth cannot be dulled. There is no desk between them now, nothing but a few inches. Leaning, wanting to reach for him—

James turns his face, smiling sharp and poison-tipped. “It’s late,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

John burns: his face, his heart, his hope.

It was only once, and only almost. The light never saw them.

 

———

 

Against all odds, they survive. John moves to Bristol, hides himself away. A real cook now: it almost makes him laugh. But James is gone, vanished, a ghost if there ever was one. John thinks sometimes of the Barlow woman’s cottage—knows it stands empty. He imagines that life, that peace, anyway.

And then a man is at the door, sea-tanned. “Is there a John Silver here?” James asks.

John shifts. “Who’s asking?”

“A man,” James says, hesitant, “who made a mistake.”

“Well.” John steps aside—lets him in. “I think I’ve made a few of those.”

James beams.

 

———

 

No one finds them here—at last, John thinks, they’ve hidden from the world. The sun over the hills finds their window and they breathe the dawn freely. He rolls over—

James is watching him. “Have I ever told you—”

“—that I’m beautiful? Once or twice.”

“Fuck you.” His gaze is steady. “You’re a monstrosity.”

“So are you,” John says.

Their bodies are warm. In this bed, in this sweet life, they fit together in a way they never did before, their broken edges matching. James looks at him long, and nods, all freckled skin and honesty. He leans in.


End file.
